


The Only Hope for Me Is You

by emotionaldun



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Emo Keith (Voltron), Fluff, High School AU, Kiss Kiss Fall in Love, M/M, Photography AU, aka my dreams of being in love which are not possible and i wrote it into gay fanfic once again, hipster lance, keith you're so in love it's adorable, love me some fluff, most of these tags are useless tbh im just a girl trying to be meme and cute, so gay lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:17:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8153584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionaldun/pseuds/emotionaldun
Summary: Keith, the artistic local emo™, hates his town so much he could be the subject of a tacky pop punk song. However, that all changes when a new kid transfers into his Photography class, and he is immediately attracted to the lanky, mocha-brown boy named Lance. so much fluff. it's not even angst for once it's just fuckckingg fLUFF





	

**Author's Note:**

> yes yes yesss another last-name change for Lance & Keith but idc i do what i want
> 
> keith's gay and lance is bi and i'm in heaven writing this oneshot because:  
> 1) i used to live here  
> 2) i miss photo class  
> 3) my ideal love story  
> 4) im avoiding all my responsibilities

“The Ferris Wheel is the best part of the whole amusement park, don’t try to convince me otherwise. You’re in _photography_ class, how could you not know that, Keith?”

 

 _Maybe because the most beautiful things aren’t always stationary_.

 

The obnoxiously-loud bell announced that first period was starting, Pidge splitting off from Hunk and I, going off to Forensics. The three of us originally had Ms. A’s class for first, but Pidge decided that she was more intrigued by Griffin’s CSI unit, and got a schedule change. Being that this was the first-full week of Junior year, I could understand her logic on switching into a class more suited to her major, and wondered why Hunk wouldn’t join that class, too.

 

Ms. A was stepping into the room later than all of us, her luscious, silver hair tied back in a complex braid. Sometimes, I pondered why she has such time to make herself look good, despite having the most violet-colored circles decorating her eyes. Pushing the thought to the back of my mind, I focused on the directions she was giving, Hunk giving quiet ‘ _ooo’s_ and ‘ _aaaahh’s_ in-between her enthusiastic lesson-plans. The moldy, rickety-wooden door slowly edged open, a pair of azure-blue eyes flicking across the room. Hunk’s index finger directed my attention to the door, and once I finally gave the mystery-visitor a look, a cheesy-grin was peeking through the crack, and they finally fully opened it up. _I felt like I was hit with a bullet-train, going 260 miles per hour_.

 

“Ah, is this Ms. Altea’s class? I was afraid there may have been a few photo teachers here. I… guess not?”

 

 Holy shit, he oozed off the vibe of a _Catfish & the Bottlemen_ song. Ms. A waved him in, pointing to the tables of kids, and gave him the rundown on how the class maneuvered: which ones go first, the order of how black-and-white photography is made, and the way she explains that it’s only a half-year course. The white girls, which huddled in the last-two tables of the room, were giggling at the sight of the tan boy – one of the only few-ethnic kids at this school – who nodded his head at the instruction, an eager atmosphere surrounding him. Fuck, I’m already gone, he’s _attractive_.

 

The new transfer student was gazing around the room after the ‘initiation’ speech was completed, and his lips twitched up once he landed on our table, as if he was relieved to be with the most ambiguous-colored kids in the whole room (besides fake tans and freckled faces), striding over to the empty seat on Hunk’s side.

 

His hand swiftly rose up to the crook of his neck, rubbing it softly before a shy smile took place of the recently-licked lips. “Um, would it be alright if I sat here?”

 

“Of course! Welcome to Photography 101. I’m Hunk, that’s Keith,” Hunk’s overly-friendly nature was taking control of the situation, the boy visually un-tensing when sitting down in the cheap chairs.  “What’s your name?”

 

“Lance, Lance Velazquez. I just moved here from Seattle.” _Lance_.

 

“Alright, well it’s great to meet you! I’m gonna go get the cameras, alright? We don’t have any theme today, so I’m a bit excited.”

 

And with a thumbs up in my direction, Hunk was off to the front of the room, taking his sweet-ass time while going there. _Suspicious_. Mentally sighing, I changed my focus back to Lance, who was staring back at me.

 

“Um… can I help you, Lance?”

 

“No _p_ e.” Popping the P, I was about to offensively question him, but Hunk was already back, plopping down the Canons on the desktop. “Oh, sweet! These things are in way better shape than the ones I have!”

 

He… _actually enjoys_ Photography? Not just taking it for the credits?

 

Curiosity bubbled up inside of me, as Hunk showed Lance around the high school, black-and-gold lines surrounding the walls of most hallways. We passed the science, art, and history wings of this building before we even got outside, the clouds clearly more gray than when we arrived. _It’s going to rain while we’re taking pictures, I just know it_.

 

Shay, Hunk’s girlfriend, was helping out one of the student-teachers carry books back to her math class, and he ran over as fast as he could, cradling the fragile camera in his massive hands. They’ve been in a healthy relationship since sixth grade, and from my point of view, it’s quite unbreakable. Yet, he left me alone with the new kid, who was fixating in on the oranging-flowers, swiftly changing angles when it was out of focus.

 

Before I realized, my camera was centered on the back of Lance’s head, the smell of rain wafting in the wind, pushing his hair back ever so slightly. An intoxicatingly-sweet beam was showing throughout his lips, and once he began to turn around, I snapped the perfect photo of him.

 

“It’s going to rain! Does it normally rain in Inverness a lot? … It’s my favorite.”

 

Gulping, I nodded, suddenly feeling my face entirely flushed. Did he not notice?

 

\--

 

A full two days have passed, having half of my classes with Lance, and he never brought up the fact that I took a photo of him for my first assignment. We have to process our negatives today, and I’ve been trying to act aloof-yet-conscious about what photo I chose to turn in (Lance’s portrait). Outside of the dark room, the faint hum of Ms. A’s indie-folk music was making Lance lightly tap his fingers against the chemical washes, eyes illuminated by the single-vermilion light in front of him.

 

Safe to say, that Hunk was catching onto my enchantment, and the way I couldn’t peel my focus off of the subtly-dancing boy. Slowly eyeing him from head-to-toe, I made mental notes of how his fashion choices made my heart physically _leap_ in excitement: from the charcoal-knitted sweater adoring his barely-visible hips, the overly-skinny black joggers rising slightly above his original Timberlands… damn it, I may just have a clothing kink.

 

The aging-clock ticked to the 12 once again, and Lance snapped out of his trance right on time, clawing out the film from the fixer. Hunk’s first, then his own, and before I could stop him, he got his hands on my photo.

 

I wanted to die.

 

His head turned to meet my gaze, appearing to be utterly surprised from the photo I chose to develop. “You went with the one of me, after all?”

 

“Uh, sorry for not asking- wait, you _knew_?”

 

Lance’s snickers bounced off the closed-room’s walls, the entire laugh rattling throughout his thin frame. “Of course! I’m quite flattered, but I didn’t think you’d use that as your first project theme. Especially because it’s… of _me_.” The self-depreciating tone behind his choice of words made something boil up inside of my stomach: whether it was disappointment, disagreement, or succor, I knew something was wrong with his statement.

 

“I think it’s beautiful,” Mindlessly speaking, I stole the picture from his clasp, wiping off the chemicals. “I’ve always enjoyed taking photos of animated things, specifically those of which are living. Humans are interesting in the aspect that a million ideas can be floating through their mind, and a lovely expression would be portrayed on their face – whether it was a false front, or completely readable.” Lance’s husky inhale notified me that he was being attentive to what I was saying, and knowing how ridiculously impulsive I am, I rolled along with the conversation. “See your face in this photo? I felt like it was soothing, and with the dim lighting that the clouds casted, it gives an almost… yearning vibe.”

 

I helplessly stuttered when I realized the taller boy was blushing, hiding the massive grin on his face by using his developed film as a shield. Is he embarrassed? Flustered? _Bashful_?

 

“I think that the photo you took of me was what made me appear more beautiful than I really am.”

 

Hunk whistling as he stepped out of the dark room was enough to make the two of us flush, probably humiliating him with all the affectionate declarations and doubtful commentary. A somewhat-wet hand brushed against mine, securing the still-slippery film into my fingers.

 

“Scenery and illusions are my favorite subjects to photograph, if you couldn’t tell.”

 

 _Holy fucking_ shit _, it was the most gorgeous photo I’ve ever seen in my entire life._ My side-shadow was casted on the asphalt that surrounds the outer-areas of the school, and a marigold flower was positioned where my ear would be. As simplistic as it was, it held a deeper meaning in my opinion… most likely because the guy I was undeniably attracted to not only photographed me, but decorated it to be artistically charming in the most gloom of conditions.

 

Bouncing on his feet, Lance purred an anticipating sound, eyes still locked on my own. “You like it?”

 

“Are you an idiot? It’s fucking gorgeous. I’m envious.”

 

And the moment after I uttered those few fragmented-sentences, I knew I was long-gone. The way his lips parted to form the most heavenly, genuinely-blithe smile I’ve ever had the chance to witness, made my brain and heart short-circuit simultaneously. _You like him, you like him, you_ fucking _like the guy you met only a few days ago. Keith Choi, you’ve been completely bewitched by Lance Velazquez, and there’s no turning back now_.

 

The bell for second period broke me free from my mesmerized state, cleaning up the station as fast as possible with the help of the object of my newly-founded affections. Since we both have US History this block, we didn’t worry about being late; rather, it was the fact that his presence was overwhelming me to the point that I wasn’t capable of steering my mind off of everything about him.

 

Every single vulgar word I knew – in Korean, English, and Spanish – rang through my head repeatedly, not ceasing until I learned we had a pop quiz today.

 

\--

 

“Keith! Keith, wait up!” Probably beating the speed of light, I spun behind me, stopping in the middle of the crowded hallway, to make out Lance pushing through all the kids. His bony fingers were waving back and forth above everyone’s heads, gaining my attention whether I recognized it or not. “Ah, Keith, I’m glad I made it to you in time… I actually had a question…” The pants strung out his words longer than usual, but I remained patient, understanding how difficult it must have been to run across from the _other side of the campus just to see me_. “The… county fair… ends tonight, right? Would – would you go with me?”

 

Is he blatantly asking me out on a date?

 

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

 

Lance’s goofy beam was masked when he dipped his head down, fidgeting with his foot for a few seconds. “I don’t really have anyone to go with, and I rather experience it now, in case I miss it next year. And you’re pretty cool, so…”

 

Rolling my eyes, I softly bumped his slouching shoulder with a curled-up fist, an uncontrollable smirk coming onto my lips. “Of course I’ll go, but do you know your way around town yet? I mean, it’s so fucking quaint here, but you could easily get lost…” Lance agreed with my babbling, claiming that because the county fair didn’t have a permanent location, he couldn’t track it with his ‘handy-dandy’ GPS. “Alright, okay… how about we meet up at Stumpknockers? It’s about five minutes down the road if you walk, and it’s behind the courthouse. I’m pretty sure you won’t miss it.”

 

“It’s a _date_ , then.”

 

Shuddering from the evocative tone of his voice, I lifted my head up, only seeing him wink at me before speed-walking away. Oh God, I’m too deep, I’m deeper than the Marianas Trench… I could probably reach the core of the Earth due to how deeply, emotionally invested I am.

 

\--

 

Cigarette smoke was a smell that lingered like a poltergeist; however, the hunger-inducing aroma of funnel cakes and fried pickles was way more potent.

 

“101” by _WALLA_ was playing throughout the fair’s intercoms, Lance and I visiting multiple rides and indulging into an unhealthy amount of food. Most of the people here were familiar to me, since I lived here ever since I was two years old, and I just shrugged them off before any unnecessarily-awkward discussions took place.

 

I learned, throughout riding my favorite rides – Gravitron, Hurricane, Scorpion, Music Express, Round Up, Skydiver, and Tornado – that Lance was equally as fascinated by rollercoasters, howling significantly less than I did. We spent hours trekking through the entire fair grounds, riding every single one: and yes, that did include the kiddy ones we were way too large for. What was stopping us, the stout-country dad with a beard the size of my shoe? The answer is _nothing_.

 

The time was 9:06 PM, and the autumn sky was officially completely black, stars evidently dusting the sky with light. From Lance’s suggestion, we saved the Ferris Wheel for last, because he claimed he had ‘business’ to take care of on it. Due to how late it was getting, the only people in line were the drunk-couples, or boisterous groups of friends who were in it for new Instagram material.

 

Cartridge 7 was the one that the two of us stepped into, soaring up into the air only seconds afterwards. Instead of being on the other side, Lance was positioned right next to me, our thighs occasionally touching – sometimes, I would scoot closer on purpose, because _damn the boy was warm as fuck_.  

 

“Wait, I brought my camera. As soon as we get to the top, we gotta pose.” Squinting my eyes, I watched him dig out the digital Canon from his backpack, securing it in his palms like it was a newborn baby. I found it weirdly endearing.

 

“Cocoon” by _Catfish and the Bottlemen_ vibrated into the rusting-cart, my heart beating dangerously quick, recalling how Lance reminded me of this specific song. As if on cue, Lance got even more close to me, wrapping his free-right arm around my neck.

 ** _Closer_**.

Eyes shooting wide open, I glared him down, blessed by his ever-amazing chortles. “One…. Two…. Three…. Four….”

 

A pair of soft, mildly-warm lips were pressed against mine, reaching the peak height that the Ferris Wheel can go, and along with the sounds of the unexpected kiss, the camera snapped a photo of us. Not caring to even see how it came out, I laid my hands on his cheeks, teeth gently grazing his bottom lip.

 

After a few annoyingly-girlish giggles from below us, we parted from our first kiss, ogling at each other like we witnessed something paranormal take place.

 

“Surprise?” Lance’s corny smirk made me roll my eyes, butterflies swarming inside of my belly instantly. “Didn’t know you’d respond like that, though.”

 

Crossing my arms, and playfully pretending that I was offended, I replied to his false-snarky comments. “You clearly didn’t want me to let go.”

 

“Maybe I just don’t wanna lose you at all.”

 

Once his gaze fluttered down to my mouth once again, I told my conscious to _fuck off_ , I’m going in for what I want. And I did: resting my forehead against Lance’s, I gave him a sweet peck, which ignited into an explosion of fireworks dancing on every one of the nerves residing inside of my lips. Nothing else was on my mind beyond Lance, and I could care less about how anyone is feeling about us making out on a Ferris Wheel. I’ll kiss him any time, and any place, I can.

 

Even though this town is utter shit, I’ve found a new item to add to my collection of ‘Cool Things that Inverness, Florida has,’ and it seems like it’s going to be all uphill from here on out.  


End file.
